


Keep My Mind at Bay

by Daniverse



Series: Glenn Deserter!AU [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daniverse/pseuds/Daniverse
Summary: Ingrid and Glenn had been soulmates all along, Felix had told Sylvain one night. Decided by their births to be destined for one another. Glenn always wore his big, knightly armor and no one could see any of the marks on his skin, but Ingrid would excitedly point at each new mark on her ankle, or her wrist, and Glenn would smile at her like she was the world. Sylvain guessed that left him all alone.---Soulmates AU where you cry, it leaves a mark on your soulmate's body.
Relationships: Glenn Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Glenn Deserter!AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557262
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Keep My Mind at Bay

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of mental health-based discussions, and how Sylvain's is not so good! If that is not something you want to read, feel free to click away!

Sylvain grew up watching his best friends find their soulmates before they were old enough grasp what a "soul" even was.

When Felix cried, a little blue mark would appear on Dimitri's skin. A stain on his skin, only soothed by his soulmate's touch. Dimitri would hold Felix while fat tears rolled down his cheeks, rocking him back and forth and mumbling a song in a language that felt odd to Sylvain's ears.

Ingrid and Glenn had been soulmates all along, Felix had told Sylvain one night. Decided by their births to be destined for one another. Glenn always wore his big, knightly armor and no one could see any of the marks on his skin, but Ingrid would excitedly point at each new mark on her ankle, or her wrist, and Glenn would smile at her like she was the world. Sylvain guessed that left him all alone.

Sylvain had cried as a child, when Miklan's love was bruising and his hatred was bone breaking. He had cried at the bottom of the well, shrieking and wailing as it bounced uselessly off the stone walls. He had cried alone on a mountain, his brother dashing off into the brush and disappearing before Sylvain could catch up. There came a point where he decided that tears could not change who he was or what he felt, so he started to focus on more productive tasks.

Sylvain made the decision at ten years old that he didn't need a soulmate to have a little fun and try to make himself feel anything other than disgust. He chased the high of another person smiling at him, holding his hand, kissing him. His friends could deal with the complicated concept of being in love. He'd spend his time doing "big kid" things.

When the Tragedy of Duscur occurred, he found a blue mark on the pulse point of his wrist.

He spent countless nights stroking the raised mark, trying to figure out who the person could be. Who would ever want to be cursed with someone like Sylvain? He almost didn't notice the second mark, the third, or the fourth as they appeared on the soles of his feet. Sylvain did everything he could to ignore it, but it felt worse with every hand he touched that wasn't the right one. Maybe he wanted to apologize for being such a terrible person, maybe to tell them that their lives as soulmates would forever be marred by Sylvain's "reputation". But no one ever came, so he was left to his own devices. A mistake his soulmate had not even realized they made.

When Sylvain began attending Garreg Mach, he already had hundreds of little marks on his skin. The women in his bed would run their fingers along the marks on his stomach, his chest, and coo at him with such concern. He didn't care, he would say as he searched for love on their lips. All Sylvain wanted was to feel something other than his own skin, shifting uncomfortably under his clothes as every rustle of fabric would touch a fresh mark. When his hands were wrapped around the smooth, unmarred skin of a new lover that evening, he could ignore his own body. He could ignore the person who wept every day, someplace Sylvain could never find.

His best friends looked at him like the scum he was, they didn't even realize they were the only thing keeping him from giving up entirely. Their anger and frustration at him was enough to remind him that someone felt something for him. At least when his friends yelled, it was loud enough to quiet the constant buzzing thought in his ears to give up. Sylvain fought like a man with exactly three things to lose. Felix would scream at Sylvain when they came back from a mission that left him a little too injured to ignore, but all Sylvain cared about was that they were all okay. If he had to die so they lived, so be it. 

Another five years past, and his back had become almost completely covered in blue. Felix chased Dimitri to the ends of Faerghus, propelled by the marks that would appear on his body. He's alive, Felix would tell him on nights that they gathered by the fire. Ingrid had discovered her marks were from someone else, their healer Mercedes. Sylvain thought she was stunning, and would share drinks and conversations with her when he was feeling like cracking his chest open and prodding at his still-beating heart.

 _Do you really think you should be so careless, Sylvain?_ She would say, clicking her tongue and rubbing circles into his palm. _It isn't just your life you have to worry about. It's theirs too._

He and Mercedes agreed on a lot, but he struggled to accept those words. The less he had to think about how his actions had consequences, the better. Especially if those consequences only affected his stupid life.

They find Dimitri. Sylvain felt painfully alone, even surrounded by his closest friends. He found himself staring at the very first blue mark that appeared, still as bright as it had been ten years ago. It was surrounded by a mass of new marks, as his back and arms were almost completely covered. He wondered how any human could have so many tears in their body. He couldn't remember the last time he cried. That part of him shut off when he decided he was the only one allowed to hurt himself anymore. When he was the one who decided how much pain he was allowed to be in.

There were some nights he wished his soulmate would die. Perhaps then the marks would fade, and he could instead be covered in grey and white instead of the brilliant cerulean that stained most of his body.

After the battle of Gronder, Felix requested they all go out on a hunt. He had seen some impressive game and thought it would be a good way to unwind after a hard fought battle. Felix led them along, crouched low in the bush, before he threw up a hand to stop them.

"Someone else is here."

His eyes narrowed, and he motioned to Ashe to ready an arrow. Ashe nodded quickly and knocked his bow, training it on an overturned log.

When Glenn stood up, his hands to the sky, Sylvain felt his mouth go dry.

Glenn made eye contact with each of them, lingering on Dimitri the longest. A shaky hand covered his mouth as tears welled up, and Sylvain felt the familiar itch of a new mark forming. He touched his neck, just under his collar, and stared hard at the man in front of him.

Glenn agreed to come back with them that night, a prize more valuable than any precious game they may have scared away.

Sylvain would have found the marks had stopped appearing if he spent any time looking at himself anymore with anything less than disgust.

Sylvain found himself standing in front of Glenn, gloves on his hands and collar puffed to hide every inch of himself, and requested he join him in his tents.

"Still a flirt, I see." Glenn mused, running along the flat of his blade with an oiled cloth. Sylvain laughed and shook his head.

"Actually, I had something I wanted to show you."

Glenn looked up from his sword as Sylvain knelt before him. He tried to keep his breath from hitching as he tugged down a few inches on his collar, Glenn's eyes widening as he saw countless blue marks on Sylvain's neck. "You really missed us out there, huh?" The sword clattered to the ground, forgotten as Glenn reached a hand to touch them.

Sylvain flinched at the touch, a single pad of Glenn's finger grazing one as it sunk back into his skin. Sylvain could not describe the thickness of emotion that pulled at his heart as he held Glenn, fisting weakly at his jacket to keep him close.

"I thought my soulmate died when I was ten." Glenn whispered, hands running along the small of Sylvain's back. Every touch sent electricity through his skin, feeling the little marks disappear one by one.

"I did." Sylvain answered, and Glenn's expression was haunted.

"Every night I wept for my fallen king and prince. Every night I cursed my own life and wished Dimitri could live instead." Glenn nestled his head into Sylvain's neck, the flat of his palm against his back. "I never would have guessed someone would feel my pain from hundreds of miles away."

Sylvain pulled back, holding his hands out. "Where are your marks?" Glenn turned away, likely hiding a blush.

"Perhaps we should take this to your tent."

Sylvain only laughed and pulled off his glove, lacing his hand in Glenn's as each of the marks between his fingers shrunk back into his skin.

Glenn zipped the tent behind him, keeping his eyes from Sylvain. Sylvain wanted to touch him more than anything else. He wanted to feel that soft, untainted skin against his. But he waited. Glenn pulled a glove off, then removed his jacket and shirt. He had a line of marks from his middle finger to his forearm, and a second line from his hip to his ribs. Sylvain took Glenn's hand in his and waited for the confirmation to move further. _As if I’m suddenly a gentleman_ , he thought bitterly to himself.

"Leave the one here." Glenn pointed to his pulse point, and Sylvain's heart ached. "It was my first." Sylvain pulled his own glove off and shoved his sleeve to his elbow, his skin more blue than pink. Despite the sea of color on his arm, Sylvain can still pinpoint the very first mark he received, sitting on his pulse point.

"Mine too."

Glenn looked at Sylvain's arms and fought back the urge to weep for him. He touched the skin with his naked hand and the sensation was overwhelming. Sylvain rested his head against Glenn's shoulder as the sensation of warmth and love crashed into his body like a wave. Glenn slowly wrapped a hand around Sylvain's forearm and slid his hand along as he felt each bump and mark shift and change under his touch.

"Does it hurt?" Glenn paused at Sylvain's elbow, looking at the man hunched at his shoulder and clutching his sides tight. Sylvain rolled his head up to make eye contact and gave a weak smile.

"Actually, it feels incredible. Just a lot." Glenn nodded, moving his hand to Sylvain's covered bicep. Sylvain took in a shaky breath and ran a single finger up Glenn’s side, the dots disappearing instantly. Glenn shuddered and his grip went tight. Sylvain could only smile and press a soft kiss to Glenn’s cheek. “Multiply that feeling by a hundred.” Glenn exhaled, his body still shaking from the stimulation.

“I’m sorry, Sylvain.” Glenn was fighting back tears again, pulling Sylvain into a bone crushing hug and burying his face under his chin. “You must hate me.” Sylvain ghosted his fingers along the small of his back, one hand bare and the other still covered.

“I mean,” He started, tilting his head from side to side. “Certainly not a big fan of yours. I didn’t exactly figure out who was doing this until you showed up, I thought you were dead.” Sylvain frowned, his bare hand tapping on Glenn’s perfect skin as he thought. “It feels good knowing I may hate myself a little less once we get rid of all of these.” Glenn pulled back and looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“Show me the rest.”

Sylvain sighed and sat up, peeling his high-collared jacket off first. Only his neck was now exposed, littered in marks. He removed his second glove, then his shirt, and Glenn’s throat went dry. His chest was not completely covered, splotches of his own skin peeking out in a sea of blue. The stark contrast of the arm Glenn had already touched against the covered one made his head swim. He swallowed, Sylvain with his thumbs now hooked in the waistband of his pants.

“This will probably be easier if you lay down.”

Sylvain looked at him with a familiar sense of want, a cheeky smirk on his face. “What, no dinner first?” He laughed as Glenn rolled his eyes, Sylvain getting on top of the bedroll and propping himself up against one of the poles of the tent. Glenn chewed on what his optimal plan of attack would be, before settling down on Sylvain’s lap.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

Sylvain’s hands ended up on his hips, massaging the bone. “I would never.” Glenn sneered at him and planted both hands on Sylvain’s chest, sliding down fast. Sylvain’s breath caught in his throat and his grip went ironclad on Glenn, who seemed quite proud of himself. “You’re kind of a bastard, you know?” Glenn held his hands steady on Sylvain’s stomach, tapping just as Sylvain had done.

“I would think you’d be used to it, considering you’ve had to deal with my kid brother.” He moved a hand to hold Sylvain’s hand, pushing a thumb insistently against the center of his palm.

“I’m telling Felix you said that.” Sylvain’s smirk disappeared in a moment as Glenn rolled his wrist forward, using just enough force to make the other man wince. “I take back my ‘kind of’. You’re definitely just a regular ol’ bastard.” Glenn had the gall to laugh and release his hand, returning them to the now bare expanse of Sylvain’s chest.

“I am trying to help you, Sylvain. Yet you wound me.” He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “If you want me to stop-”

“Please,” Sylvain interrupted, locking eyes with Glenn. “Don’t.”

Glenn nodded, his hands moving to Sylvain’s shoulders. He furrowed his brow in concentration as he moved a little slower, rubbing away every little mark he could find. Sylvain was glad Glenn’s gaze was no longer on him, because something was happening in the cavity sitting in the center of his chest. Something was making it stir to life in a way that felt utterly foreign to him. Glenn’s careful touch moving across his body, making his vision blur in the sensation it created, it was making Sylvain remember just why soulmates shared these blasted marks.

A soulmate was meant to share their burdens. To share in one another’s joys, and one another’s pains. If they did not, they would never learn how to face them together.

His cheeks felt wet, and he brought up a hand to swipe at his face blindly. Glenn’s careful ministrations halted as he glanced up at Sylvain and frowned.

“Too much?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” Sylvain smiled through his tears, placing his damp hand on Glenn’s cheek. “I’d like to give you a little thank you, Glenn. For coming back. And for-” He hiccuped, internally cursing his emotions to hell and back. “And for helping me. I don’t remember the last time anyone gave a shit about me.”

Glenn grinned at Sylvain and placed both his hands on his cheeks, their noses touching. “I’m telling Felix you said that.”

Sylvain smiled wide and felt fresh tears slip down his cheeks. “Bastard.”

Glenn closed the distance between them with a kiss, Sylvain winding his arms around Glenn’s back and getting lost in a haze of something a smarter person may describe as love.

**Author's Note:**

> hey did you know: Sylvenn Cute  
> If you wanna talk about it with me, come follow me at @danivonfemblem and let me know!!


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